The Charleston is a mixed bag of a bar. After changing owners, it has transformed from a complete dive into an ironic dive. It's hard to find a night where the place isn't pervaded by the smell of the bathroom cleaning supplies—or the bathroom itself, sadly—and the place seems to be kept in purposeful disrepair. Upstairs, you can find free pizzas dotting the long wooden bar that are surprisingly tasty, if thin, and pretty comfortable booths lining the far wall, although they come out a little too far into the limited walking space. The back of the bar, which formerly served as the performance space for bands, now seems like it's sadly waiting for the next Wii Night to resurrect itself. This has to be counterpointed with the downstairs situation, where an unfinished basement is intended to hold live music, with the bands set up directly in front of the crowd with no stage whatsoever (the low ceilings wouldn't allow such a construct). The sound isn't poorly mixed but, because of the space, is necessarily and oppressively loud. One of the big features, however, of the Charleston is that a small, enclosed space in front of the bar lets smokers sit in the open air with their drinks while having a much needed smoke. The Charleston is a great bar for a drink and a pizza, but proves itself to be severely inadequate for live music.